Mayhem's Desire: Operation Mayhem

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Mayhem's Desire: Operation Mayhem Page 9

by Lindsay Cross


  So maybe she should try someone else. She knew she could get a reaction from Hicks. He was the one she’d have to corner to get info. And there was obviously something fascinating happening, something her sister had gotten herself involved in. Besides, she needed to get her car back, and there was a good chance Hicks could help her. If he actually was working for some secret government agency, he could probably track it through its GPS.

  Or she could try to reach Cory again.

  Unless he was involved with her B&E…

  No. He’d been too happy yesterday. Why would he try to destroy her life when he wanted her so bad? Whitney gave herself an internal shake. She’d reach out to him again in the morning, but the risk of revealing everything now was simply too high. Even to her sister. Whitney made a show of stretching and yawning. “Where’s my room? I need a shower and a bed.”

  Melissa blinked behind her thick glasses as if Whitney had just said something puzzling. “I’ll show you where the personal living quarters are.”

  Before Whitney could leave, Diggs gave her a wink and said, “Put her next to my room. I’ll make sure she’s safe.”

  Melissa said, “She’s staying in my room. Plus, I need you in the lab for first rotation.”

  Diggs groaned and dropped his face into his hands. “I thought it was King’s turn.”

  “Nope,” King said.

  “Come on, you need some rest. You can fill me in after you’ve had a shower.” Melissa led her out of the room, barely giving her a chance to throw a “good night” over her shoulder.

  They crossed through a butler’s pantry and then exited into an opulent dining room with a long, polished mahogany table and two crystal chandeliers overhead. The rug covering most of the floor was probably worth more than Whitney’s yearly salary. “I didn’t realize the government included this kind of bling. I’m going to have to rethink my career.”

  They passed through a doorway and into a three-story foyer, with a black-and-white checkered floor, polished white walls, and a curving grand staircase. Tiger came running across the room. Whitney held out her arms, and he leaped into them, purring in her hands.

  “I see you still have the cat.”

  “Did you think I’d turn him out?” She’d found him in her parking garage, a baby kitten, nearly starving to death. She stroked his whisper soft black fur, loving the way he curled into her and tucked his head under her chin like he was giving her a much-needed hug.

  “Of course, not. You’ve never been able to turn away someone in need.” Melissa slowly ascended the staircase, and Whitney followed on her heels. “I’m not working for the government anymore.”

  That jarred her attention from her surroundings. “Is that the reason I haven’t heard from you in a year?”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  Wanting to see her sister’s expression, Whitney picked up her pace, so they were climbing side by side. “Aren’t you going to tell me anything?”

  “I really can’t, Whitney.” They reached the second story landing, and Melissa hooked a left down a plush, carpeted hallway lined with tall, hand-carved, white doors on either side. This wasn’t anywhere close to her sister’s typical living conditions. “So, do you own this place?”

  Melissa let out a soft sigh and opened the door on her left, gesturing for Whitney to precede her into the room. “Of course not. I’ve got money saved up, but not anywhere close to this.”

  “Then who does?” Tiger jumped down and went to explore the room.

  Melissa closed the door, the handle snicking shut with a soft click. When she turned back to Whitney, her face was no longer expressionless. Her eyes glowed with excitement and something else. Worry. “I can tell you a little bit more, now that we’re alone. Why don’t you hop in the shower first and let me change?”

  “No way. Spill. Now.” Whitney crossed to Melissa’s enormous bed and dropped back onto the crushed silk comforter. With its paneled walls and vaulted ceilings and windows, the room looked ready for a wealthy ambassador or a foreign dignitary.

  Hicks had led her to believe they were going to some concrete bunker crap hole and he’d been living in a place like this all along? Oh, how she was so going to get even with him. How could a man be so infuriating and so sexy at the same time?

  Whitney made a mental note to interrogate her sister about him. She had no intention of sparring with him again without more ammunition under her belt.

  Melissa shrugged out of her lab coat, tossed it on an armchair near the door, and then collapsed near the head of the bed. Toeing off her shoes, she leaned back on the stack of decorative pillows. “When I disappeared off the radar last year, I was working for the government. Or at least I thought I was.”

  “So, if you weren’t, who were you working for?”

  Melissa pulled off her glasses and touched the bridge of her nose. “An evil person.”

  A tiny tingle of apprehension tightened Whitney’s stomach, and she eased closer to her sister. Despite their differences, they’d always been there for each other, and right now, she suspected Melissa needed her. “Talk to me. I can tell something is going on here. I’m not stupid,” Whitney said gently. “Those men down there aren’t normal, are they?”

  Melissa’s gaze searched hers intently. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean they’re like Special Forces or something, right? That guy, King, is bigger than any man I’ve ever seen. And Hicks—you should’ve seen the way he moved. Like a predator.”

  Melissa’s shoulders eased, and Whitney got the feeling she had missed out on something significant.

  “They’re not Special Forces because they don’t work for the military. Not anymore. But they are the closest thing to it.”

  Whitney sensed that she was just scratching the surface and her curiosity wouldn’t allow her to let it go this easily. “So, they’re mercenaries, right?”

  Melissa shook her head, “No. They’re good and honorable men who were put in a very terrible situation. I’m trying to help them.”

  “By keeping them locked up in this place? King said you’re not allowing them to leave. But how can you control them? How can anyone control them?”

  Besides their obvious size and muscle, there was an aura of raw power that hung around every one of those men. The thought of her sister, stern and logical though she was, having any say-so over what they did was laughable. “You’re a scientist. They’re mercenaries or whatever you want to call them. What logical reason could there be for this situation?”

  Melissa sat up so suddenly, causing Whitney to jerk back in surprise. Her sister grabbed her hand, her eyes burning into her. “It’s not logical. It’s—”

  “What? Just tell me, for Pete’s sake. You know you can trust me.”

  Melissa held silent for so long that Whitney wanted to shake her. Her sister’s stubbornness would be enough to crack Mother Teresa’s patience. Just before Whitney was going to open her mouth and begin interrogating her again, Melissa spoke.

  “I haven’t gotten to talk to a civilian in so long.”

  Sensing a chink in her sister’s armor, Whitney took her sister’s hand and said, “I’m not a civilian—I’m your sister.”

  Melissa gave her hand a slight squeeze and then pulled it back into her lap. “You have to swear to secrecy.”

  Whitney held up her pinky. “Pinky swear.”

  Melissa gave a broken laugh, but she took Whitney’s pinky anyway. “I was working for the government, under a very powerful man in a research facility in a different country. Hicks and his people were all there too. I was supposed to help another researcher figure out how to help them on their missions.”

  “Help them how? Like, make some new weapons or bombs or something?” Her sister was acting like she’d created the atomic bomb all over again.

  “No…worse.”

  “What could be worse than that?”

  Melissa bit her lip and hugged her knees to her chest. The little tingling of dread Whitney had felt ea
rlier doubled. “Melissa, what’s worse?”

  “I can’t say. It’s not my place.”

  “You haven’t done anything wrong. I know you—you won’t even jaywalk.”

  Melissa had never broken the rules or the law. She gave straight-laced an entirely new meaning. It was impossible to imagine her involved in anything illegal or harmful.

  “I had no idea what we were doing at first—” each one of her sister’s words tumbled out faster than the last, “—but I was still part of the experiment.”

  She wanted to pull her hair out. So far, Melissa had talked plenty, sure, but she hadn’t told her anything. “Look, if you’re in some kind of trouble, let me help. I’ve got friends. What do you need? You need to get out of the country?”

  Melissa laughed bitterly. “You’re the one who needs help. Your place was broken into. I’m fine. There is nowhere safer on this planet than where we are right now.”

  “Okay, let me approach this a different way. Tell me exactly what happened in this terrible experiment.”

  “Do you remember when I won that Edgar research award in Switzerland?”

  Whitney rolled her eyes. “Of course, I remember that. Mom and Dad called every newspaper in the country to have it announced.” It was just another example of how much they admired Melissa. But for some reason, Whitney didn’t resent her sister because of it. Never had. It wasn’t her fault their parents showed favoritism.

  “Right. So, do you know why I won the award?”

  “Are you being for real right now? You think I wouldn’t make it my business to know why my sister won the most prestigious scientific award in the world?”

  Melissa gently punched her arm and finally smiled. “You don’t have to be a smart ass. Okay, let me break it down into normal people’s terms.”

  “Please.”

  “I was able to successfully alter a live animal’s DNA sequence.”

  Whitney paused, taking that in. She might not be a genius, but she knew what DNA was. “So, you changed what, a mouse’s DNA? Did you turn him into a horse or something?”

  Melissa scoffed, “Don’t be silly. I simply made him a better mouse.”

  She tried to figure out how you could make a better mouse—Did he eat more cheese? Evade traps? —but all she could envision was a little white furry rodent with tiny ears and ugly red eyes.

  Her sister continued, “Compared to pretesting before my experiment, the mouse performed at the same level as the other placebo mice. Post research, he showed a statistical improvement in all aspects, including hearing, sight, speed, and agility.”

  “So, you made a super mouse?” Whitney tried to keep the sarcasm out of her voice, but it was impossible.

  “In a way, yes. But it really has nothing to do with the mouse. It has to do with the fact that I was able to successfully alter a living creature’s DNA. And have it live for a sustained period without adverse side effects.”

  Whitney dropped her head down and rubbed her temples. “Great. Why don’t you get to the part about how this involves Hicks and his team?”

  Melissa cleared her throat and, for the second time that night, avoided her gaze. “I was hired to do the same thing to them – stabilize their DNA.”

  “Why would you need to stabilize their DNA? What was wrong with it?”

  “Someone altered it.”

  It took Whitney’s brain an extra second or two to process that last bit of intel, and another to react. She jumped off the bed and stared at her sister in shock. “Like they’re not ordinary people anymore?”

  “You always did have an overactive imagination,” her sister said with a small smile. “No, I simply isolated the molecules involved with their strengths, used protein bonding synthesis to enhance that area of the DNA strand that had been previously altered. I was able to stabilize the men and decrease their negative reactions to the initial serum injection.”

  Whitney rubbed her temples, trying to massage some understanding into her brain. “English.”

  Melissa shrugged as if they were talking about a change in the weather. “The head researcher, Dr. Winters, altered their DNA, but her formula was off, resulting in some very adverse reactions from the men. I was able to stabilize the broken link long enough so that they didn’t have a massive aneurysm or heart failure, but my fix is only a temporary patch. They need regular doses to retain their norm.”

  “So, what you’re saying is that the men aren’t normal and if they don’t get your serum they’ll die? What the hell did Dr. Winter’s do to them?”

  Melissa’s eyes grew bright. “She made them faster. Smarter. Stronger.”

  “And you kept them alive.”

  “Exactly,” Melissa said.

  Whitney felt the blood drain from her head. “Hicks.”

  Her sister eyed her with new respect. “Figured that one out, did you?”

  “He picked me up like I weighed less than a pebble. No man has ever done that.” But he hadn’t crushed her, or bruised, or hurt her in any way. In fact, he’d done nothing but give her one hundred percent pleasure.

  Until he’d ruined it by opening his big fat mouth.

  “There were some other side effects too. They all have enhanced senses,” Melissa said matter-of-factly.

  “Well, apparently Hicks wasn’t smart before the experiment. He’s as dumb as a brick wall, pardon the cliché.”

  Whitney collapsed back onto the bed, letting her hands hang over her knees. It was too much. First her car, then her apartment, and now this—whatever this was.

  “I’ve never known Hicks to be dumb or rash. Did you notice him exhibiting any odd behaviors in the field?”

  “Speak English,” Whitney bit out. Her brain was absolutely done. It was all she could do to take in all this information, let alone decode science speak.

  “Did he do anything strange when he was with you?”

  Whitney felt the heat rise to her cheeks. If almost screwing someone within minutes of meeting them was strange, then, yeah, he was definitely strange. And so was she. “No, not that I could think of.”

  “Hmmm—” Melissa tapped her chin thoughtfully, “—so what’s the problem then? Did he do something to upset you?”

  “Get real. I hardly know the guy, how could he possibly upset me?” Besides implying that she was some kind of criminal.

  “Your poker face might work on anyone else, but not me,” Melissa said.

  Whitney frowned, knowing her sister spoke the truth. Somehow, she’d never been able to lie to Melissa, despite her best efforts. That didn’t mean she was going to tell her that she’d almost banged one of her altered subjects tonight. “We just rubbed each other the wrong way.”

  Or the right way, depending on how you looked at it.

  “And?”

  “And that’s it.”

  “I’m going to talk to Hicks.” Melissa made a move as if to get off the bed. Whitney’s gut reaction was to stop her. She checked it and leaned back on her elbows, watching as her sister made her way very slowly toward the door.

  “I don’t think you want to do that. He’s not in an excellent mood.”

  Melissa paused with her hand on the door. “And why wouldn’t he be in a good mood?”

  What was the better answer? Tell her sister that they’d rounded second base and slid into third, or that she’d screwed up and let Hicks believe she was some sort of criminal?

  “We might have kissed.”

  She waited for Melissa’s stern lecture about getting involved with the wrong guy or some other such nonsense, so she was completely shocked when her sister asked, “Was he good?”

  Whitney fell back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. No matter how angry she was with the guy, there was no denying he was a good kisser and more. “The best.”

  “So why are you angry with him?”

  “It’s nothing, really. Don’t worry about that. I want you to tell me more about this experiment— it’s got me curious.” And she needed every bit of infor
mation about him that she could gather.

  “Don’t you mean that you want to know everything about Hicks?” she asked lightly.

  “How enhanced is he, exactly?”

  10

  Hicks slammed his fist into the thick leather punching bag in the training room, growling in frustration when it burst open and the sand inside poured out at his feet. He needed to find a way to work out his frustration.

  Someone let out a low whistle behind him, and he spun around, fists clenched and ready for a fight. Diggs leaned against the lockers, his arms crossed and a smug expression on his face. “Get in a fight with the punching bags?”

  Hicks glanced over at the three other bags he’d busted earlier. “Yeah, they wouldn’t stop smiling at me.”

  Diggs’s grin grew wider. “Man, she’s got you wrapped around her finger. Can’t say I blame you. That is one hot woman.”

  Hicks saw red.

  “Don’t test me right now, brother. I won’t be responsible for the consequences.” Why couldn’t he stop thinking about Whitney? He’d had his opportunity to unload her on someone else, but dammit, the thought of her with another man made his blood boil.

  “You’re talking like I’d regret doing a little rematch with you.” Diggs straightened from the lockers and tilted his neck from side to side. “I don’t think I’d come out on the losing end.”

  Hicks smacked his fist into his open palm, eagerness fueling his action. He and Diggs sparred a lot, mostly because they were bored and needed to burn off energy. But Hicks had never felt the way he did now. Like his blood was too hot to stay in his veins.

  He spread into a wide-legged stance and raised his arms in front of his face. “Care to give it a try?”

  “How about we make a new bet?”

  “What kind of bet?”

  “Winner gets to take on her case.” Diggs pulled off his shirt and flung it on the ground, his torso a work of pure lean muscle. He’d be a worthy adversary for any opponent. Sometimes Hicks even let him win.

  But not tonight.

  “Deal.”

 

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